Goodbye
by The-Goldstein-Sharpshooter
Summary: It's German Reunification Day, so why is Prussia running around the world meeting up with people, when he should be spending the day with his younger brother? T for language character death, hinted lemon. Some PruXHun, AusXHun. Family fluff.


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_Inspired by Lady Charity's Third of October, this is my first Hetalia one shot. I couldn't stop writing this the moment I read Lady Charity's work, so I do hope you enjoy it. Hetalia doesn't belong to me, or there would be a Malaysia, Singapore and Indonesia character there. Feel free to make any criticisms, as long as their constructive._

* * *

**Goodbye**

In a house located at the heart of Berlin, a white haired albino opened one sleepy eye. Yawning, he stretched his arms before stumbling out of bed. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, forming white streaks across the room. Gilbert trudged through his room, still feeling drowsy. One shower later, he walked out of the bathroom, water dripping off his thin body wrapped in a towel. Passing the mirror, he just happened to glance at his reflection. Immediately, he stopped and stared. After a few seconds, he ran back to his room and slammed the door shut. Somewhere downstairs, he could hear his brother yell something at him, but he had more urgent matters to attend to at the moment. Dragging out a random shirt and a pair of pants, his eyes darted around the room as he put them on as fast as he could. When he was done, he started ransacking the room, pushing papers and books off the desk, turning his mattress inside out. He nearly pulled closet door off when he yanked the door open. After a few more hectic minutes of rummaging around, he felt his anxiety starting to build up underneath his chest. His breath started becoming more raged as he continued to turn his room inside out. It was only after he opened the curtains did he finally find what he was looking for. His crimson eyes widened, before he staggered back a few steps. Leaning against the wall, he slid down and covered his face with one hand, while the other was pressed against a scar on his chest, right above where his heart was.

* * *

Ludwig frowned at the noise upstairs. "What on earth is he doing?" He was just about to walk up the staircase himself when Gilbert came running down past him. "Wha-? Gilbert, what's going on?" demanded Ludwig angrily. The only reply he got from the white-haired ex-Nation was faint as he dashed out the door. Ludwig just caught the words, "visit" and "back soon". He shook his head in frustration. "Really, he needs to relearn his manners!" Ludwig headed back to the kitchen where he had been making his and his brother's breakfast. He sighed and put a colander over Gilbert's meal. "Maybe he'll eat it when he gets back." Taking off the apron and mitts, he glanced at the calendar and smiled. Tonight was going to be a big night indeed.

* * *

Roderich's fingers danced gracefully over the keyboard. Chopin has always been one of his favourites, although it was Mozart who was from Austria. The boy had been gifted with such talent, but wasted it. Chopin on the other hand made good use of what was given to him by God. Roderich smiled as he played "Raindrops", his body relaxing with each note. Meanwhile, Elizaveta was in the kitchen, making him some tea. They had planned to spend the afternoon together, before heading to Germany at night for the celebrations. He felt his heart beat faster when he thought of her, and blushed. Though it had been ages since they were married, he couldn't deny that he still had strong feelings for her. Wondering hopefully, "Maybe...just maybe..." he glanced side-long at her as she waltzed into the room, carrying the tray with her. The sunny smile on her beautiful face has stayed the same throughout all the centuries, unmarked by the wars that had often torn them apart. But try as he might, he could not detect that special..."something", that she had had when they were living together, under the same roof. It had accompanied her when she smiled, when she laughed, when she talked... whatever "it" had been, it had long vanished, buried within the pages of time. He smiled sadly and let his feelings out through the music.

Two bars later, a resounding crash jolted Roderich from his music. Flustered, he turned towards the source of the dischord, and immediately frowned. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Prussia." He greeted him stiffly. In reply, Gilbert panted and put up on finger. "One...moment..." he gasped. The albino was resting on the doorway, clearly exhausted from what looked like a wild dash from Germany to Austria. Roderich raised an eyebrow. "Did you run all the way here?" he enquired. Gilbert nodded, before collapsing on the coach, trying to get his breath back. Roderich looked at Elizaveta, her expression showing that she was just as clueless as he was about Gilbert's reasons to come and visit him so urgently, out off all people. She got up and whispered towards him, "I'll go and get him some water," before hurrying out.

A few more seconds passed, before Gilbert finally managed to recover his composure. Roderich cleared his throat. "Now, what is so urgent that you had to run all the way from Berlin? Are you in trouble with Germany?" Gilbert looked up at the Austrian, his trademark smirk on his face. "I'm hurt, Roddy! Do you think so badly of me all the time?" He stretched his arms on the coach, one leg propped up on the table. Roderich flinched when he saw the dirt on the boots. "Excuse me, but please put your feet down!" he snapped. "I just finished cleaning my house, and I would appreciate it if you do not mess it up so soon!" For a moment, Gilbert just continued smirking, while Roderich fumed. Of course, Prussia would never listen to him. He had always been there, taunting him, beating him up, taking away his things, making fun of him...

Roderich was snapped out of his internal rant when suddenly, Gilbert obliged and took his leg off the table. Roderich stared in shock, his mouth agape. Gilbert. THE Gilbert Beilschmidt. Had just listened to him.

A loud crash followed, and both Gilbert and Roderich jumped. At the doorway, Elizaveta looked stunned. A cup rolled in the puddle on the floor at her feet, and her fingers were still curled in the shape they had been when she had brought the cup of water to the room. Her eyes were wide open, and her mouth was moving, although no words came out.

The awkward silence was interrupted by a weak laugh from Gilbert. He stood up and walked over to her. Bending, he picked up the cup and handed it to her. As he did so, he leaned forward and whispered something into her ear. Roderich bristled and was about to yell at Gilbert when surprisingly, Elizaveta nodded, accepted the cup, turned around and walked right back out. Roderich found himself at a loss for words. The world had gone mad. Gilbert was listening to him. Elizaveta was listening to Gilbert. Roderich slumped against the piano and moaned. "This has to be a dream," he muttered, closing his eyes. "A really, really weird dream, and soon I'm going to wake up and I'll be in my bed and..."

His eyes snapped open as Gilbert flicked his finger onto his forehead. "Argh!" He rubbed the spot and glowered at him. Nope, this was no dream. Gilbert chuckled. "Don't worry Roddy, I just told Elizaveta to give us a few minutes alone. It's time we had a man-to-man talk." Cracking his knuckles, Gilbert flashed a smile a shark might give to his prey, before slamming his hand on Roderich's shoulder. "Come on, let's take a seat." Wordlessly, Roderich complied. He slowly sat down on the coach, still confused over the strange turn of events. Gilbert sat down opposite to him, and for a moment both men fell silent.

"Hey Roddy." Gilbert broke the silence. "How long have we known each other?"

Roderich started at the sudden question. "Almost 170 years." He replied. Curious, he asked, "Why do you ask?"

Gilbert just gave a small shrug. "Nothing...it's just that..." As Gilbert struggled to continue, Roderich started getting worried. "This isn't like him at all..." Reaching over, he felt Gilbert's forehead. "Do you have a fever or something, Prussia?" he asked worriedly. Gilbert just batted his hand away. "Of course not!" he protested. "I'm just trying to tell you something, you pansy!" Roderich furrowed his brow in annoyance. "Then just say it! I have a busy day ahead of me, and your presence here is not wanted!" he snapped in reply. Immediately, the colour drained from Gilbert's face. "Not...wanted. Huh?" He muttered. Roderich was starting to get confused. Gilbert was acting so strange! One moment he was his usual cocky self, the next, he was quiet and, dare he say it...depressed. None of the pieces were fitting at all!

Gilbert suddenly stood up, the expression on his face unreadable. Roderich blinked. "Prussia, wha-" Before he could finish, a hand reached out faster than lightning, and yanked the Austrian upwards by the neck roughly till he was face-to-face with Gilbert. "Pru...Prussia!" he choked. The smirk was gone, no Gilbert was gone. In his place was a grim man, crimson eyes flashing dangerously. The fist that had grabbed his neck clenched tighter. Roderich gulped at the fierce expression on his face. He knew that this was the true face of Prussia, the man behind the jokes and pranks. The conqueror.

It could've been seconds, it could've been minutes, but both men were motionless. One threatening, the other scared. Outside the house, the birds chirped, oblivious to the tension building in the room.

Slowly though, Prussia's grip softened, and he let go. Roderich fell to the ground and hacked and coughed. He glared at Prussia angrily. "Are you out of your mind!" he shouted. He was just about to order him to leave when suddenly, Prussia knelt down and crushed him in a tight hug. Roderich's voice faltered and slowly died out. Gilbert just hung on to him, not moving, no words. Just quiet breathing.

Eventually, Roderich felt the grip loosen. Gilbert let him go and smiled. Not a cocky, "I am the best in the world" smirk, but a genuine smile. "Thank you, Roderich." He said. Getting up, he extended his hand to the Austrian and pulled him up. Roderich straightened up and tried to look the man in the eyes, but Gilbert just averted his gaze. "Gilbert..." Roderich called out his name softly, for the first time in his life. It sounded strange, hearing himself speak the name of a man that for so long had infuriated him.

Gilbert just looked up, and his smirk was back. "Don't think I'm going easy on you, Roddy." He slapped him on the back, hard. Roderich winced. Gilbert continued, "Anyway, I gotta go now, but I have got something else to tell you." Roderich gave him a wary look. "If you're idea of telling me something involves nearly strangling me..." Gilbert had the decency to look slightly abashed. "Sorry." Leaning towards the Austrian, he whispered into his ear. "Elizaveta still likes you." Startled, Roderich stammered, "It-it-it has nothing to do with you!" He could feel the blush spreading through his face. Gilbert just laughed. "Come on Roddy, I know you like her too. That's why you keep inviting her over and stuff, right?" He continued with light humour touching his words. "You were the one who's been giving her all those ridiculous presents, don't deny it!" Roderich shifted his foot uncomfortably. "My love life is not yours to poke and pry at!" He argued weakly. Gilbert crossed his arms across his chest. "Tell her, you idiot." Roderich gaped at him. Gilbert just carried on nonchalantly, as if the conversation topic was something mundane. "How long are you going to spend on that piano of yours, waiting and hoping that she'll one day come running into your arms?" Unfolding his arms, he spoke, this time quietly. "She's waiting for you, you idiot."

Roderich stared at Gilbert as the man gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "I'm going now," he announced. He gave Roderich a wink, before heading out to the door. "I'll see you tonight, right?" he called out as he walked. The only thing the confused Austrian could do was stammer, "Ye...yes..." And then Gilbert left.

Roderich just stood there, staring at the door. It was all like a dream to him, everything was so strange. A small click to his right and he jumped. Elizaveta came out of the corridor, a camcorder in her hand. A creepy smile was on her face, sending chills down Roderich's spine. "Roderich...I never knew that you two were involved..." she giggled. Roderich looked at her, looked at her slim body, her beautiful eyes, her full lips. Before he knew it, he walked right up to her and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment, her eyes widened in shock, and Roderich felt her whole body stiffen against his. A pang of regret hit him, and he was just about to break the kiss off and apologise when suddenly, she flung her arms around him and responded with even more passion. Roderich wrapped his arms around her and never let go, not even when they broke the kiss, not even when he carried her upstairs to his bedroom. He just held on for all that was worth.

Outside the house, Gilbert smiled sadly to himself, as he watched his childhood sweetheart being swept off her feet by his rival. Oddly though, he felt no envy, or jealousy, like he did all those years ago. As Roderich rushed up the stairs with Elizaveta in his arms, Gilbert let out a weak chuckle. "You stuffed up prick. Always knew you had it in you." He turned and walked down the road. He still had some places left to go to, and he'd have to hurry if he wanted to get back in time for tonight's celebration.

* * *

Ludwig looked at the clock. It was 2 o clock, and Gilbert still wasn't back yet. He had called Roderich a few hours ago, but nobody picked up. Odd. Usually the Austrian was at home at this time of the day, practising his piano. Sighing, Ludwig wrapped the wurst and mash potatoes with cling wrap and took it to the refrigerator. Taking out his brother's cold breakfast and putting in his lunch instead, he emptied the morning meal and took to washing the dishes. "Gilbert, where are you, you idiot." He growled. He vented out his frustration on the washing, scrubbing the plate a bit too hard. The brush slipped out of his hand and hit the collection of pots and pans on the nearby shelf. In horror, Ludwig watched as all the kitchenware crashed to the ground.

* * *

Feliciano was taking his afternoon siesta with his brother, Romano. The two brothers lay on the grass, enjoying the warmth the sun radiated. Only the occasional twitter of the birds broke the silence as the both of them napped in peace.

Until a loud trumpet blew out the Radetsky march.

Romano shot awake and slammed his hands against his ears, while Feliciano just blinked a few times in confusion. "Shut up , you bastard!" yelled Romano, looking around for the source of the song. His bad mood increased ten times fold when he saw Gilbert trumpeting away. "You! Potato bastard number two!" Snarling, Romano got up and whipped out his pistol. Feliciano freaked out. "Ve, fratello!" he squeaked. Aiming the weapon at Gilbert, Romano threatened him. "You better get out of here before I make a mash out of you." Gilbert looked at Romano with a quizzical look, before lowering the instrument. He raised a hand in surrender. "Woah, chill! I'm just here to speak to your younger brother, that's all." Feliciano pointed at himself in bewilderment. "Ve, me?" He exclaimed delightedly. Romano didn't share his brother's happiness, and merely swore in Italian. "Damn it, I won't let you get near my fratello, you potato bastard!" Feliciano grabbed his brother's arm, trying to pull the pistol away. "Ve, Romano, stop! Gilbert is my friend!" pleaded the younger Vargas. The older just struggled with his brother. "No, you idiot, he's here to conquer us!" he yelled back.

Gilbert watched the two brothers struggle for a few minutes in amusement, before he calmly walked over and pulled Romano off Feliciano with one hand, and grabbed the pistol with a firm grip with the other. As Romano's colourful vocabulary echoed throughout the area, Gilbert just knocked him on the head. The bad mouthed Italian fainted, and his head rolled to one side. Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief and tossed him to the side. "God, I thought he was never going to stop." Looking at Feliciano, who was frantically waving a white flag and begging for his life, Gilbert couldn't help but chuckle. "Calm down, Little Italia, I'm not here to harm you. That would be a totally unawesome thing to do." Either Feliciano had not heard him, or he didn't trust him, but the brown-haired nation was still bawling his eyes out and calling for Ludwig to save him. Gilbert sighed heavily and opened the basket he had been carrying with him.

Feliciano was still panicking when suddenly, some tomatoes were shoved right in front of him. "Ve?" He looked at them, and then at Gilbert. "For me?" he asked. Gilbert replied, "Who else? Well technically they were for you and your crazy brother, but seeing as he's still down for the count, you'll have to accept them on his behalf." Feliciano smiled and threw the flag away. "Yay, tomatoes!" He cheered and took the tomatoes, immediately starting to munch on one. His smile widened as he tasted it. "Wow! These...these are really delicious! Where did you get them?" Gilbert responded, "From Spain. They're from his own personal garden. I know your brother grows his own, but in my opinion..." here Gilbert bent down and whispered to Feliciano. "...they ain't worth shit compared to that idiot's." Feliciano swallowed the mouthful he had just taken, and grinned at the taller man. "Thank you, Gilbert!" Gilbert waved his hand in the air. "It was nothing." He replied. "Actually, I need your help with something, Little Italia. Think of the tomatoes as a good will present and I'll even give you some more if you agree to help me." Feliciano whooped with delight. "Ve, you want Feliciano's help? I'll definitely do what I can!" Gilbert patted the Italian on the head affectionately. "Wow, you're really one bundle of energy aren't you? I'm really glad that you're West's best friend." Gilbert said to the bouncing Nation. North Italy nodded. "Yeah, so am I! Ludwig helps me when I'm in a pinch!" He exclaimed happily. "And you'll help him when he's in an unawesome pinch as well, right?" asked Gilbert. "Yes, definitely!"

"Alright then..." Gilbert pointed a finger at Feliciano. "You are now officially recognised by the awesome Prussia as the ally of Germany!" He announced proudly. "Ve?" Laughing at Feliciano's confused expression, Gilbert explained. "When I first found out you were with West, I just couldn't believe it! My little brother was always so serious, so stuck to the rules, that the very idea that he had made friends with well...you..." he gestured at the Italian, "...was ridiculous. I thought that West had been drinking too much when he informed me about that pact you made with him." Gilbert ran his hand through his white hair, his red eyes glancing at the sky. "However, since you've been with him...West has changed a bit. He's still a kill-joy, don't get me wrong, but ever since you came into the picture, he's gotten out his party hat and finally learned that life isn't just about making your bosses happy. He started relaxing a bit more, started having a life outside work. And those were things that I could never make him do. Well, I could, but that would involve tons of beer being poured down his throat," admitted Gilbert. Seeing that Feliciano still didn't quite understand, Gilbert tried again. "What I'm trying to say is...I'm glad that you're my brother's friend, Feliciano. Sure, I had my doubts at the beginning, but for once, I'm glad to say that the awesome me was wrong about something."

Feliciano still didn't quite understand what all the fuss was about, but just hearing Gilbert say those words put wings to his heart. He leapt forward and gave Gilbert a giant hug. "Ve, so am I, Gilbert, so am I!" Gilbert glanced down at the shorter Nation, embarrassed at this public display of affection. Clearing his throat, he gently pried North Italy off him. "As for what I want you to...all you have to do is to promise me that you'll continue being his friend no matter what." North Italy looked at Gilbert as if he had grown an extra head, before bursting out with laughter. "Of course I'll always be Ludwig's friend! Even if he's mean to me, or won't eat my pasta, or yells at me for running away, I'll never stop being his friend!" Feliciano beamed at Gilbert.

The older Nation smiled at Feliciano. "Alright, that's good to hear!" Getting up, he gave North Italy the basket he had been carrying. "The rest of the tomatoes are in here. Remember to share them with your idiot of a brother. Ask him along for tonight as well." Feliciano's face suddenly dropped. "Romano...he hates me. He hates you, and he hates Ludwig. He'll say no and just call me stupid." Gilbert cast a look at the knocked out Italian. "Him?" Gilbert chuckled and patted Feliciano on the head again. "He's just acting that way because he wants to protect you." Feliciano looked up at Gilbert, tears forming in his eyes. Gilbert wiped them off with his hand. "Trust me. I AM the awesome Prussia. Maybe he'd trust you more if you hung out with him more often." He cut off the Italian's protest. "I know he's harsh on you, but that's partly also because he thinks you've replaced him with West." Feliciano look surprised. "Eh! I'd never do that!" Gilbert grinned. "Then tell that tomato bastard that, and you'll see the difference it makes! I've got to go now, so I'll be seeing hopefully both you and then tomato bastard tonight, Little Italia." With that, Gilbert took his leave from the Feliciano. Feliciano just continued waving and shouting good bye until Gilbert disappeared from sight. It was at that moment that Romano woke up with a killer headache and started screaming about potato bastards.

Looking back, Gilbert knew his gut instinct about the older Vargas had been spot on. Deep down, Romano did care for his younger brother. You just had to look past the curse words and threats. Romano and Feliciano, England and his brothers, even him and Ludwig... He watched as Romano grudgingly accepted a tomato from Feliciano after some heated discussion. A small smile formed on his lips as he turned back towards the road and carried on his way. Time was running out, and he needed to visit one more person.

* * *

The sun was now setting, and Ludwig was starting to get worried. In the last eight hours, he had heard neither head nor tail about his crazy and hyperactive older brother. Calls to the other Nations hadn't gotten him any results either. He was just about to go and grab his coat to look for him when his mobile beeped. He quickly switched it on and found a text message from Gilbert.

"Hey West, sorry about running out on you today! I've got lotsa awesome things to do today, so I had to rush out. Don't worry, I'll see you tonight! From, the awesome Prussia."

Ludwig glowered at the phone. Of course, only Gilbert would do something like this. Run out without a single word, leaving his poor younger brother to fret about him. "When that idiot gets back, I'll give him a piece of my mind!" Ludwig grumbled. He climbed the stairs to get ready for the night's festivities. Roderich, Elizaveta, Feliciano and Kiku would be here in an hour's time, and he needed to plan the activities properly.

* * *

Kiku sat down on his tatami mat and poured Doitsu's older brother some green tea. The man had just banged on his front door a few minutes ago and had demanded to talk with him. Granted, Kiku had not been happy about this last minute arrangement. According to his schedule, he was supposed to start getting ready to leave for Doitsu's place in ten minutes. But Prussia had insisted on seeing him now, and Kiku just couldn't bring himself to decline.

As he monologued, Prussia was already wolfing down some manjuu cakes. Kiku noted how hungry he was. "Prussia, have you not eaten anything the whole day?" he enquired. The other man just shook his head as he continued to gobble the food down. Kiku gave him another three minutes of his time (which was as much as he could afford at such a critical point) before asking him. "So, Prussia-san...what is troubling you? If you're looking to clean my house again, you can come back tomorrow..." Prussia suddenly chocked on a cake. Kiku quickly thumped the albino on the back. "Drink some tea, quick!" Prussia grabbed the cup and knocked back the tea in one gulp. Kiku sighed heavily with relief. "Prussia-san, please be careful! Every year some of my people die from eating too much too fast. It's not good for your digestion." Prussia-san smiled back at Kiku. "It's ok, I'm the awesome Prussia! I can handle it!" Kiku nearly felt like crying. "Is...that so?" He mumbled. When he had heard that Prussia had actually gone over to help America a long time ago, he started getting an idea of where the blonde man got his, "I'm the hero" mentality. He quickly went back to his seat and tried asking again. "So...what is the matter?"

Prussia reached into his backpack and rummaged, before taking out a letter. "Here." He handed it to Kiku. "I want you to give this to West tomorrow." Kiku gave the letter an apprehensive look. "Prussia-san...this isn't a joke letter, right?" Prussia laughed hard. "Come on Japan, last time was just a tiny prank between me and West!" Kiku felt inclined to remind Prussia that the "tiny prank" involved Japan as the messenger boy who had unknowingly given Germany a parcel with a stink bomb inside, but decided to drop it. Prussia finished laughing, and continued on a more serious note, which took Japan by surprise. "Anyway, I have a confession to make to you." Japan looked shocked and uncomfortable. "Wha? M-Me! Oh no Prussia-san, I'm not the right person to-" "Shut up and just listen, all right?" Kiku immediately closed his mouth tight. Prussia looked really tired and annoyed now, and the last thing Kiku wanted was an irate ex-Nation with a past history of blood warfare to go rampaging around him house.

Prussia got up and took a few steps forward, his back to the Japanese. His voice, when it came out, was uncharacteristically hushed. "When I first found Ludwig, it was on a battlefield. I mean, I knew I had a younger brother, just that I'd never met him before this. It was that bastard France who told me about him and that he had just been injured at some place. I got there as soon as I could. The poor kid had been stabbed in the chest, and was already dying when I finally found him pinned under a dead horse." Kiku's eyes widened in horror. He had been to many battles in his long life. He could just picture the scene that Prussia was telling him about. The dead soldiers everywhere, the flocks of crows that preyed on the flesh of the unloving...and in the middle of all the death was a little boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, lying on the ground with a stab wound on his chest. Prussia's voice continued, bringing the Japanese back to reality. "I thought he was dead already, but he wasn't. He just simply refused to die. Even as a kid, he was as stubborn as an ass." A chuckle came out from the man. "I brought him home that day, washed his wound and dressed it. And then the next day...when he woke up, the fucking idiot had forgotten everything! His identity, his home, his past...all gone." Kiku swallowed nervously. Prussia's serious tone of voice was starting to scare him almost as much as the story he was telling Kiku was. "For a while, he was nothing more than a doll, just limp. No reaction to anything. All he did day in day out was eat and sleep. I was going nuts with him. I just didn't know how to deal with a kid who was potentially deaf, blind and mute. I didn[t even know his name! But I knew he was my brother. I can't tell you how, just knew. However, one day, as I was cleaning the room with a broom, I heard him call out something. Do you know what it was?" Kiku was about to reply that he didn't know, but Prussia cut him short. "It was Feliciano. He called out Feliciano's name."

Kiku stared at Prussia in shock. "Italia-san knew Doitsu-san before World War 1!" he wondered. This revelation was surprising to the Asian man. Doitsu had told him that he had met Italia on the battlefield in a box, and Kiku knew that he was not one to lie. Things weren't adding up. However, as Prussia continued the story, Kiku forced himself to pay attention first, and to ponder later. "And every day after that, he just kept getting better. At that time, I didn't know who Little Italia was, didn't know he was with Austria, or I'd have brought him for visits. He didn't have any friends. Because he had no past to depend on, he started to mistrust people. He couldn't remember who it was that had nearly killed him. Sure, he was alright with me...but he'd stay as far as he could from others. And he never mentioned Feliciano's name ever again, after that day. I tried asking, but he'd just get upset when he couldn't remember, so I dropped it." Prussia's voice shook slightly with emotion. "So, when I found out in World War 1 that he had made friends with the personification of North Italy, someone called Feliciano Vargas...I nearly had a fit." He took a deep breath. Kiku sensed that the next bit was going to be difficult for Prussia, judging by the way he was fidgeting, but Kiku recognised that he needed to do this. His patience was rewarded when Prussia finally blurted out, "I was worried and jealous of Feliciano!"

Kiku was speechless. Prussia! The man with the ego the size of America was jealous to Italia! Before he could process this information any further, Prussia suddenly laughed bitterly. "Amazing right? The awesome Prussia freaking out over one half of a nation. But the truth was that I thought Ludwig would leave me for him. It was only his name that had brought him back to life all those years ago. And when he started hanging out with Feliciano so much, I...I thought that I'd lose him to that pasta-loving idiot." Prussia swallowed, but then he steeled his resolve to finish what he started. "And in a way, maybe I did. After all, the only who could change him, help him pick up the pieces after he had been broken down all those times, was the flag-waving chicken from a country that lost half its wars and ran away from the others." Prussia's hands were hanging loosely by his side, and Kiku swore he heard his voice tremble. "I just couldn't get it. No, I didn't want to get it. So I started staying away from West. I didn't want to admit that West found Little Italia more awesome than me." Kiku kept quiet when he heard a sniff. Prussia brought his hand up to his face and wiped his eyes, and Kiku understood why he didn't want to face him as he confessed this to him. "But then...well...you know what happened at the end of World War 2. I went to live with the fucking commie and his stupid family. I was miserable there. I wasn't being tortured or anything, but the whole time I was there, I wasn't allowed to see West at all. Not even letters. Braginski...or maybe his boss, I don't fucking know, they constructed that damn wall to keep me away from him. And for so long, I was kept separate from my brother." Prussia fell silent for awhile. Kiku was well aware of the time that was running from him, but he figured that this was more important than being punctual.

Eventually, Prussia's voice returned, hollowed. "Those years I spent with Braginski though...they taught me the true meaning of family. The three trembling chickens stuck to each other like glue, even though they were all so different. Even the bear...the bear had his dysfunctional sisters to see him through the winter. Me? I had no one. It was there that I realised that I...was wrong about running from West, running away from my failure as an older brother, running away from facing my flaws. I needed West, not the other way around. When the wall finally came crashing down, I was so happy to see him. I can't describe how it was like, to see someone your entire being ached for for so long." Prussia abruptly turned back to face Kiku. A single tear tract was on his cheek, but Kiku refrained from saying anything. It still felt like Prussia had more to say, and his gut instinct was right. Prussia clenched his fist, and whispered, "When I went home with West, I had never felt so alive in all the years I had been alive. It was...the most awesome feeling ever. Nothing could replicate it. Not even Old Fritz...and that was when I realised the importance of family."

Kiku felt his body go rigid. Family. Kazoku. That three syllable word that brought a long-haired, friendly looking Chinaman with great culinary skills and a penchant for Hello Kitty toys to mind. Prussia went back to his seat, oblivious to Japan's inner struggle to keep his face as neutral as possible. "I lost sight of what family actually meant. For a moment, I thought it was all about me being the older brother to West, someone for him to look up to. But I was being selfish. I liked being looked up to. It made me feel good, to be so trusted and so loved. And so, when West found Little Italia, I thought he had betrayed me, when actually it was me who did the backstabbing." Kiku started to feel very very uncomfortable, the situation slightly mirroring his own relationship with China. Only he was probably guiltier than Prussia would ever be. China had taken him in, cared for him, taught him how to read and write and fight. And all China had to show for it was a scar on his back. Prussia looked Japan in the eye, his crimson eyes ablaze with emotion meeting Japan's brown eyes that tried to squash those family feelings. "I needed to make it up to West. I couldn't forgive myself just like that. So, I did some digging around to find out more about his past, and what he was doing at that battlefield all those years ago." Kiku's ears pricked up.

"Well, eventually, I found out the truth. But my fucking ego got in the way again." Prussia's expression of disgust at himself was clearly on his face. "I hid the truth from my brother, afraid that this time he would really abandon me in favour of Feliciano. I mean...I told myself that it wouldn't make a difference if I told him anything, that I'd only be hurting the two of them if I said anything...but that was a lie. The only one who'd get hurt would be me." Prussia hiccupped. "But now...I want to do the right thing. I want to tell West what I should've told him ten years ago. It's just that...I can't trust myself to tell him everything. And that's why...I'm asking you for help Japan." Kiku bowed his head slightly. "What can I do for you then, Prussia-san?" He spoke, his voice grave. Prussia pointed at the letter he had given him. "That letter...it has the truth I tried to bury within it. For the past decade, I've tried to give it to him, tried to force myself to do it, but I just couldn't. But now, I need to do it. And that's why I'm asking you to give it to him." Prussia averted his eyes away from Kiku. "The reason why I told you everything just now was because I needed to get it off my chest, but I needed to tell someone who knows my brother and who wouldn't judge me, or tell me what to do, or what I should've done." Kiku remained silent. This was a lot of information for him to bear at once. As interesting as it was though, a bigger question remained to be answered. Kiku was just about to ask when suddenly, Prussia looked at his wrist watch and cursed. "Damn it, I'm going to be late!"

The tense situation in the room popped like a bubble as Prussia ran out to the door. Kiku followed behind him. "Ah! Prussia...Prussia-san!" he called out. The only reply he got from the ex-Nation was a quick, "I'll see you in Brenen soon, Japan!" before Prussia sprinted off at a superhuman speed. Kiku found himself staring at the doorway, the question still on the tip of his tongue. Speaking to no one in particular, Kiku whispered, "Why tonight, Prussia-san?" The melancholy immediately left him however, as he spotted the time. "I'm late!" However, he sent a quick message on his phone, before he ran to his room to get changed.

* * *

Ludwig tapped his foot on the ground and glanced at his wrist watch again. The celebration had officially started an hour ago, and still no sign of Gilbert. His patience running thin, he observed the happy crowds around him. Occasionally, he'd catch sight of one of the Nations who had come to participate in tonight's fun. Roderich and Elizaveta were checking out all the stalls together, his hand holding hers. Ludwig had raised one questioning eyebrow when they had both arrived, but decided to say nothing when he noticed now happy they were. Feliciano had actually managed to drag Romano to attend, and for once the older Vargas did not call him potato bastard, but instead nodded his head curtly at Ludwig before he and his younger brother went to a wurst eating competition. From where he was sitting, he could hear the crowd cheering for the two Italians as they out-ate the German contenders. Kiku had arrived a little bit late, flustered and obviously out of place in his yukata, but he was enjoying himself as he took pictures of the festival. What was even more surprising was the appearance of China, who arrived a few minutes later than Japan. The Older Nation had spared Ludwig a quick greeting, before flinging himself on to his younger brother who Ludwig interestedly noticed did not push China back as he usually did before. The two Asian nations were now going around, taking photo shots together and chatting. Ludwig couldn't help but feel a bit lonely, as he too was waiting for his brother to finally arrive. "What's up with everyone and their brother's these days!" He shook his head.

Ludwig picked up his cell and checked. No messages, no missed calls. He gritted his teeth and shoved the mobile back into his pocket. His fingers brushed against something, and he pulled it out to reveal his Iron Cross. He had had it made into a necklace of sorts, at Gilbert's insistence that it looked "way more awesome" that way, and he had grudgingly agreed. The lights around him were reflected in the metal, and it was cool to the touch. Ludwig looked at it for a while, debating whether he should wear it today or not. These days, he kept it in his pocket, but tonight was a special night, and with all the commotion in the crowd, he supposed no one would notice...He slipped it over his neck, and smiled as he felt the cool metal against his shirt. "Right where it belonged!" he thought proudly to himself.

Checking his watch, he frowned. There was supposed to be a beer drinking competition soon, and he and Gilbert had signed up for it. If he was going to miss it, Gilbert Beilschmidt better have a damn good reason to give him.

A sudden smack on the shoulder had him nearly stumble. His ice blue eyes met with the fire red ones of his brother's as Gilbert laughed and proclaimed something about his awesomeness. Ludwig just glared and grabbing his brother's wrist, pulled him towards the site of the competition. They had just made it as well. Any second later, and they would've been disqualified. Ludwig kept glowering at Gilbert, hoping to instil at least some sense of shame into his older brother, but Gilbert just seemed completely ignorant of it.

After the competition, which Gilbert had won much to Ludwig's chagrin, Gilbert had yelled something at him. Over the din of the celebration, Ludwig couldn't catch a single word and motioned as such. Gilbert rolled his eyes dramatically, and gestured to his brother to follow him. Both brothers moved away slowly from the crowds, until they came to a quieter area. In fact, the two brothers were the only ones there, with everyone else still on the main street. Ludwig finally snarled at his brother the three words that he had kept bottled up inside of him for the whole day. "Where. Were. YOU!" The last word came out harsher than expected, but Ludwig was fed up of his brother's ridiculous disrespect of punctuality. Gilbert gave a weak smile. "Relax Ludwig, I'm here, aren't I?" Ludwig took a deep breath. He was about to give it to his older brother when the man suddenly cried out, "Hey, you're wearing your Iron Cross too! That's so awesome!" Ludwig raised an eyebrow questioningly, and noticed that like him Gilbert had decided to wear his Iron Cross. "So? Today is a special day." He replied crossly. Gilbert said in return, "Yeah, yeah it is..." his voice trailed off. Ludwig, caught off guard, asked his brother suspiciously, "Gilbert, what are you planning?" He crossed his arms across his chest, his eyebrows furrowed. "If you're thinking of sending me another stink bomb like last year-"

Ludwig was cut off when Gilbert suddenly reached forward and pulled him into a tight embrace. Ludwig's mouth was still open, but the remaining words were stuck in his throat. His arms unfolded and for a moment they hung loosely by the side as Gilbert buried his head in his brother's shoulder. A steady blush grew on Ludwig's face, and slowly his arms wrapped around his brother as well. The two brothers stood like that, sharing a warm hug. Ludwig felt his anger and annoyance slowly dissipate. Gilbert suddenly spoke, his voice muffled. "West...you're the most awesome thing that could've ever happened to me. You took awesome to a whole new level. I...I'm really glad I got to meet you..." Ludwig's mouth was dry, and he really couldn't think of anything to say in reply. He finally settled on, "Th-thank you..." when suddenly, he felt his brother's entire body suddenly go rigid. "Gilbert?" he questioned. The only response he got was when his brother went limp in his arms. He would've collapsed on the ground if not for the fact that Ludwig had already been holding him. Immediately, Ludwig started to panic. "Gilbert!" He called out his brother's name sharply. "Brother, can you hear me?" Slowly, Gilbert opened his eyes and smirked at Ludwig. Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief. "You idiot, you had me worried for a second." He grumbled, embarrassed that Gilbert had seen him panic momentarily. He rested his brother on the ground. "I'm going to go and get the others to help," he told his brother. Just as he was about to leave though, Gilbert grabbed his arm with a weak grip. But what really stopped him was Gilbert's voice. "West...don't go...stay..." His voice, once so strong, was barely a whisper now. And he was pleading. Gilbert never pleaded. Not even Russia came to take him away. No, his idiot brother had his pride and he would never beg. "So why now..."

Ludwig couldn't shake the bad feeling that was starting to build inside him. His heart thumped with anxiety and he slowly nodded to his brother. As he sat down next to him, a sudden flash and bang rattled the ground underneath him. Staring, he watched as the night sky was filled with fireworks of different colours and shapes. He watched in awe as they exploded in multiple patterns, and nearly did not notice as Gilbert propped himself up on him. "Awesome...aren't they?" whispered his brother. Ludwig found himself nodding in agreement. "I thought the fireworks were for later," mumbled Ludwig. "Heh...I...I got them especially for us..." Ludwig turned to face his brother. "For...us?" he asked puzzled. Gilbert nodded slowly. "Because...today's the day...we got back together...the day...when I had...my little brother back..." Ludwig was starting to get really worried now. He put his hand up to Gilbert's head to check for a fever. His older brother just continued on. "Remember...when you were young...you were afraid of the dark...and...and I...I told you to imagine lights...colourful lights...in the sky...you fell asleep after that..." No fever. He didn't run a temperature. But Ludwig's blood turned cold when he checked his pulse. It was nearly gone. "Gilbert! We need to get you to a hospital now!" But his brother just shook his head. The fireworks illuminated his pale face and the peaceful expression on it. Gilbert's hand weakly searched for his brothers, and when he found it, he grasped it. "West..." he murmured. Ludwig, by now, was scrambling for his mobile phone in his pocket with his free hand. Whatever that was wrong with his brother, it was getting serious. Just as he was about to dial the number, Gilbert's voice interrupted him. "Gilbird died today. I...I couldn't find him on my head when I woke up." Tears welled up in his eyes, and finally he let them go. "I found him on the window pane. He was so...so cold..."

Ludwig's face turned ashen. The mobile phone clattered to the ground as it slipped from his numb fingers. Gilbird. Dead. The yellow chick that was always with his brother, through the centuries. Ludwig hadn't noticed that the bird wasn't around his brother tonight. He had been too busy getting worked up and angry. And now, he found out that his brother's one companion throughout the years was dead. "Brother...I'm sorry..."he whispered. But what did any of this had to do with his brother's condition?

To his surprise, Gilbert just gave a small shrug. "I'm...I'm not too upset, West. You wanna know why?" The question hung in the air, as all around them the fireworks continued dance through the night sky. Ludwig felt his breathing intensify, the panic slowly returning as slowly, things started to make sense. Gilbird's death. His brother's mysterious disappearance and why he had "things" to do on one of Germany's most important holidays. The special fireworks. As everything started to click, Ludwig moaned. "No. No, no, no, no, no..." he grabbed his brother's hand that was holding his. "Gilbert, don't say it, please don't say it!" He cried out in fear. "I...I'll hate you if you say anything! Don't you dare, Gilbert Beilschmidt, don't...don't!"

"I'm going to die, Ludwig."

A particularly loud bang echoed throughout the area as a gigantic firecracker exploded into blue and red flowers in the sky, before separating into tiny stars of colour. Ludwig stared in horror at his brother, as the realisation took time to sink in. But Gilbert just managed a weak smirk at him.

"Why...so surprised, West? We...we always knew...I was on borrowed time..." he muttered to him. "Adelbert, Rufus, Diederich, Falke, Orland...they all...left...right?" Ludwig shook his head, trying to keep the tears from falling, trying to figure out some way to keep his brother with him. "They're...they're not as awesome as you are!" he burst out. "I...I am...the most...awesome...older brother..." Gilbert whispered.

Suddenly, Ludwig felt it. At first, he thought that he was just delusional, but there it was. A thumping that was getting weaker and weaker by the minute. His brother's heart beat.

At that moment, six other nations felt the same ominous beating. Three of the nations immediately dropped whatever they were doing, while the fourth found the fifth and sixth and explained. All six of them started fanning out, searching for someone, but it was crowded, and everyone else was excited about the mysterious fireworks that had not been part of the schedule...

Ludwig tried to keep Gilbert talking, praying that the other Nations could somehow feel what he had just felt. "Come on, Gilbert, don't give up! You're the awesome Prussia! You're too awesome to just fade away!" Ludwig barely recognised his own voice as he shouted. "Just hold on! We can get through this, can't we? We got through World War 1, we got through Hitler...surely you're not just going to quit!"

His brother's eyes closed. "My...my time...is over...West...it's your turn...to be awesome...no...to be the...most fucking...awesome...Nation...in...the world...I...I am so happy...I get...to spend tonight...with you..."

As the fireworks reached the climax, the whole October sky was a kaleidoscope of colours. The lights were blinding, flashing everywhere, and the cacophony of the explosions covered the yell that Roderich let out as he finally glimpsed the two brothers in the quiet street. He, Elizaveta, Feliciano, Romano, Kiku and Yao ran towards them, as somewhere on the streets Germany's national anthem was played. Someone had put up speakers at the main street, and they song echoed throughout the entire city.

As time seemed to slow down, Ludwig was only aware of one thing as his brother beckoned for him to come closer. He reached down, his heart banging on his chest, his brother's life beat in his head, and Gilbert whispered into his ear.

"I love you, my brother."

As the last firecracker whizzed through the air, Gilbert Beilschmidt took his last breath. As it exploded, so did his body, scattering into a whirl of black feathers that surrounded his brother. And as they too drifted away with the wind, the sobbing howling scream like that of a wild beast erupted. Ludwig clutched the Iron Cross against his chest, the only thing remaining from Gilbert, who was Prussia, who was GDR, who was East Germany, as he wept and bawled for his dead brother. Around him, the other Nations mourned. Elizaveta buried her face on Roderich's shoulder, crying her eyes out. Roderich tried his best to comfort her, but his words rang hollow as tears started to fall from his eyes as well. Romano, his eyes wet, embraced Feliciano tightly as the younger brother howled his misery out. And Yao merely held Kiku's hand tightly as both of them bowed their heads in sorrow.

A single black feather floated to the ground, and the wind whispered.

"Goodbye."

* * *

_Wow, angst much. I've been RPing as Prussia recently, so I wanted to really delve into his mindset. I hope that I wasn't too OOC with this piece. The five names that Gilbert mentioned (Adelbert, Rufus, Diederich, Falke, Orland) are the names I chose for Saxony, Bavaria, Bradenburg, Hesse and Holstein. All of them were older brothers of Germany. In this fic, they have all faded over time / died because they gave up all their skills to Germany. There are also a few references to Osoji Prussia, a downloadable mini game about Prussia trying to clean houses. Happy German Reunification Day._


End file.
